


My Shelter From the Storm

by ForgottenLegacy



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Albino Dave, Bullying, Depressed dave, F/F, F/M, Family Problems, Humanstuck, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-07 20:50:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4277463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForgottenLegacy/pseuds/ForgottenLegacy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>* Human!stuck highschool AU*</p>
<p>“‘Did you fucking eyeball me?’</p>
<p>The locker room around me became quiet instantaneously, and I looked up curiously to find that the voice was trained towards me. A large senior male glared in my direction, his body tense with anger. ‘Do you think you’re all cool and shit, just because you wear shades?’ He sneered. ‘Because you have a lot to learn if you’re going to go to this school.’”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sixteen-year-old Dave Strider is bullied and beat up on a daily basis at his new school. With a traumatizing past, family problems at home, and untold scars, it seems like Dave is too broken to be fixed. Until Karkat Vantas comes around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song "Legacy" by Eminem.

Dave’s Perspective

“Did you fucking eyeball me?”

The locker room around me became quiet instantaneously, and I looked up curiously to find that the voice was trained towards me. A large senior male glared in my direction, his body tense with anger. “Do you think you’re all cool and shit, just because you wear shades?” He sneered. “Because you have a lot to learn if you’re going to go to this school.” 

I took a hesitant step back, my hand instinctively running through my bleach blond hair. “Yo man, I don’t mean to cause any trouble,” I said quietly. The older male smirked at me, his steely eyes glinting with contempt. “You really shouldn’t be staring down us seniors with your fucking shades, then,” he growled.

In seconds his large frame towered over me, his fingers curled around the collar of my shirt. I felt myself being lifted up until my feet couldn’t reach the floor. I struggled under his firm grasp, my arms flailing weakly at my side. My face was forcibly titled up at his, and I could see him smirk before my body was met with metal and soon darkness. 

I blinked open my eyes to find myself immersed in shadows. My knees were folded against my chest and the only light I could see came out of the three slits on the locker door. “Shit,” I muttered, a forlorn sigh escaping my lips. “Can't believe I'm actually stuck in a locker.” I wiggled my hands free and gave a few feeble attempts at pounding the door open. After nothing happened, I let out another sigh and chewed on my lip.

“Okay, it’s obvious I can’t get out by myself,” I said slowly, speaking quietly to myself. “And I can’t call John, Rose, or Jade, since my phone is in my bag,” I stated, pausing in thought. Suddenly I heard the locker room door swing open and swift footsteps echo on the tile floor. ‘Do I call for help?’ I thought, hesitant of the idea. I had been through a lot of embarrassment already, was it worth it to ask someone for assistance? To have to explain to them how someone shoved me into a locker and how I couldn’t defend myself? 

I groaned, not thinking of any other plausible solution. “Fuck it,” I mumbled. “Guess I have to.” 

“Hey, yo! I’m stuck in this locker, could someone help?” I shouted as loud as I could, my voice bouncing back at me from the metal walls that surrounded my body. The footsteps paused and I could hear a confused voice. “Huh?”

“I’m in a locker! Help me out, man,” I repeated, my words taking on a pleading tone. “Uh, sure…” The stranger muttered. I could hear footsteps coming closer to me. “How do I get you out, shitrod?” 

“Okay, insult aside, can you just try hitting it? Sometimes if you hit a locker the right way it’ll open. Or, if that doesn’t work, you can try using a bobby pin,” I replied, hoping this dude would actually be able to get me out. “Okay, I’ll try punching it, I guess,” the other student said. Seconds later I heard flesh hit metal. “Feculent insufferable fuckmaggot! Fuck-shitting groinfuck!” The stranger screeched. “That fucking hurt!”

I cringed, rubbing my temples. “Okay, man. Do you think you could try swinging at it again? Maybe a little lower?”

“Fine,” the stranger growled. “I can’t believe I’m doing this for some crotchstaining insipid fuckmoron I don’t even know,” he mumbled. Another hard thump was audible against the locker door. The door swung open and before I could stop myself I tumbled out, my body landing on the floor with a loud thud. I squinted up, realizing the light was too bright. ‘My glasses,’ I thought, beginning to panic. I closed my eyes, my hands flailing around the ground around me. My sunglasses weren’t on my face and they were a necessity. I needed them. Nobody was allowed to see my eyes. “Looking for these?” The voice asked.

I stopped grabbling around and paused as hands slipped my aviators onto my face. I blinked open my eyes, looking down in embarrassment. “Yeah. Uh, thanks,” I said, scratching my neck. “Also, thanks for helping me out, man.” 

“No problem, jazzfuck. My name’s Karkat, by the way.”

“The name’s Dave. Nice to meet you, Karkat,” I replied, finally looking up at the dude who had saved my ass. Karkat was relatively short and had wild black hair. I stood up, brushing myself off. “Hey, do you see a red backpack around here? I think the douche bags who shoved me in there might of took my stuff,” I said, glancing around the locker room. 

“Sorry, I haven’t seen it. It doesn’t look like it’s in here, either,” Karkat responded, a slight frown forming on his lips. “That sucks that those biscuitshits took your stuff. Want me to help you look for it?” The black-haired boy offered.

I shook my head, exhaling air through my nose. “Nah, man. It’s fine. I’ll deal with everything tomorrow. I should probably be getting home, my bro’s gonna start worrying about where I am. Thanks, though,” I told him, heading towards the door. 

“Wait. You’re kinda bruised and beat up. Want me to take you to the nurses office?” Karkat said quickly, streaks of concern audible in his voice. I looked back at him, surprised at his offer. He seemed like he genuinely cared. I shook my head again. “I’m fine. See you tomorrow,” with that, I hurried out, the locker room door closing behind me.

…

Moments later I stood outside the school building. A chilly autumn breeze swept past me, tugging at my clothing and hair. I wrapped my arms around my body, beginning to walk down the sidewalk. “Those dicks probably have my jacket,” I mumbled under my breath, keeping my eyes trained on my feet. It was a ten minute walk home to my apartment, so I had plenty of time alone to my thoughts.

I had a history with being bullied. Ever since elementary school, I was isolated from the other kids. I looked different, thus I was regarded as different. It wasn’t until second grade did John Egbert stick up for me when some kid took my apple juice.

In middle school, it was mostly verbal insults. I was pushed around a few times, but nothing as bad as high school. People do everything that’s described in those cheesy ‘Stop Bullying’ pamphlets. I’ve been hit, shoved, elbowed, ignored, laughed at, and whatever else you can think of. 

I kicked a rock, turning down a street. I looked up at the sky, at the tree branches that laced overhead. “Why am I so differently wired? Am I a martian?” I asked out-loud, wondering why in the world I was born with my disorder. “Why me?” Out of all the people in the world, I was cursed. It’s brought me nothing but pain. “What kind of twisted experiment was I involved in?”

Being albino sucks. I looked down, training my eyes back on the sidewalk. “’Cause I don’t belong in this world,” I said, a bitter laugh rolling off my lips. I was different and I hated it. It wasn’t worth it having “cool eyes” as Jade described them. 

Suddenly my apartment came into view. It towered over me, boasting of a total of thirteen floors. It was a rather nasty building, though. Not one room had air conditioning and there was a known mice problem. Also, in many places paint was chipping and wallpaper was peeling off. One room I knew of had a broken door.

I hurriedly climbed the four flights of stairs that led to where bro and I lived. I swung open the door, stepping over bro’s smuppets that littered the floor. I sighed, feeling a water droplet drip on my forehead. We had a leakage problem, so in some parts of the apartment water dripped from the ceiling.

My bro glanced up at me from his spot on the couch. “How was school?” he asked in a bored tone, his hand reaching for another handful of Doritos. After I stayed silent, he added, “You’re home late. Did something happen?” 

I gave an exasperated sigh, glaring at him from behind my aviators. “What do you fucking think? Some cocksucker shoved me into a locker and now I don’t have any of my stuff,” I said with clenched teeth. 

“Sorry, man,” bro said, sitting upright. He fixed his ruffled hair and adjusted the pointed glasses that rested on his nose. “Wanna talk about it or something?” 

“No, I don’t want to fucking talk about it. I’m surprised you said that, actually. Because you never want to talk. All you want to do is strife. Other than that, I don’t even exist to you,” I snarled.

“Sorry if it feels like that to you.”

“Why can’t you be like a regular brother? I want someone like John’s dad or Jade’s grandpa to be my guardian. Instead I was stuck you,” I shouted back at him, hot tears blinding my vision. “I wish mom and dad never died!” 

Before my bro could respond, I pushed my way through the cluttered living room and ran to my bedroom. I slammed the door behind me, slumping down on the ground in tears. Hot pain choked my throat and a quiet cry escaped my lips. “Life isn’t fair,” I whimpered, tears snaking down my cheek. I rested my head on my knees, sobs racking my body. 

“Nothing is fair,” I whispered. My bro didn’t care about me. I didn't want to drag down John with my troubles. Rose didn’t need me, she had Kanaya. Jade wouldn't understand. None of them could stop the bullying or make life better. They couldn’t fix the mistakes that had scarred my past. Suddenly a face appeared into my mind. 

A short boy with crazy black hair. Karkat seemed like he cared. I pictured his face and decided I might have to find him again. Maybe he would be someone who would listen. And through the tears, a small smile fought it’s way onto my face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I was facing a bit of writer's block when it came to this fanfic, but I think I've overcome that. So I happily present to you chapter two!

“Mr. Strider, you’re late,” The teacher noted with stern disproval, glaring at me with unhappy eyes. “Get to your seat.” 

I muttered an apology and hurried down the rows of chairs, everyone else in the classroom staring at me as I did so. When I finally reached my seat next to Rose, the teacher resumed talking. “Now, as I was saying, please pass up your homework.” 

I grimaced, drumming my fingers on the desk. I had forgotten to do the required workpages. Not that I would have been able to anyways, with my bag missing. “Rose,” I whispered. “Can I copy your homework?” 

Rose sighed, looking back at me with reproachful eyes. “Fine,” she muttered, handing me the papers. “But, if I may ask, why didn’t you complete your own?”

I gave her a thankful smile and began scribbling down answers. “I had a rough night, okay?” I answered quietly, not looking up from the papers under my hand.

“I’m sorry, Dave. I know things are hard for you. But you have to learn to overcome your problems.”

“Please don’t lecture me, Rose.” 

“My apologies, I wasn’t meaning to.”

“And some dicks took my bag, so…”

“Oh, that is a quite troubling matter. What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know, I’ll just look around the locker room after this class. Maybe search during lunch or something.” 

“Okay. If you need any help, don’t be afraid to ask.” 

I didn’t answer. Within seconds I finished jotting down the home work and I passed my copied pages in. “Thanks Rose,” I said, handing her the pages she let me borrow. She nodded in response. 

The rest of class was just like any other day. The teacher lectured on and students occasionally threw crumpled pieces of paper at me. Nothing special. As soon as the bell rang, though, I hurried in the direction of the locker room. My next class was Science and I was pretty sure I’d need my textbook and papers. 

Before I knew it I stood at the lockers. Not many people were there, since most students went to their lockers before 1st period and after 4th period. I glanced around the room, hoping to spot a glimpse of red that might be my bag. No such luck. I sighed, turning around to leave when somebody else scrambled in. 

“Asinine vacuous douchefuck!” A familiar voice grumbled loudly. I turned around to see Karkat, the dude who had helped me out yesterday. I watched him fumble at his locker, swinging it open and grabbing his algebra textbook. As soon as he noticed me, he paused and raised a hand in greeting. “Hey, asswagon,” Karkat said before slamming his locker shut. 

“Have you happened to see a red bag anywhere? I still haven’t found it from yesterday,” I asked, scratching my neck. 

“Sorry, fuckstain. I haven’t. I can help you look, though.”

I frowned. I didn’t want to bother anybody, but I was running out of time. “Would you mind?” 

“I don’t mind at all,” Karkat replied, placing his algebra book into his bag. “I don’t think it’s in here… Where should we look first?” 

“I’ve been meaning to check the lost and found but I didn’t get the chance to this morning. So maybe there?” I suggested.

Karkat nodded. “Sure.” 

We began walking in unison down the abandoned school hallways. The sound of our footsteps echoed off the walls as we made our way to the lost and found. “So, where do you live?” Karkat asked, breaking the silence that had settled between us.

“That sounds fucking creepy, dude.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that, shitrod! I was just trying to make conversation.”

“I know,” I said, laughing. “I live on the west side of town, in the apartments.” 

“Cool,” Karkat replied, nodding. “I live north of there, in the suburbs.” 

“Ahh, okay. That’s not too far from me.”

Suddenly the bell ringed, signaling that 2nd period had started. 

“Well, I guess we’re gonna be late to class,” I said, putting my thumbs in the pockets of my jeans. “Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to cause you this much trouble just to help me find my stuff.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind being a little late,” Karkat replied with a shrug. 

In seconds we both stood at the entrance of room 205, where the lost and found box was located. I bent down, beginning to dig through the container in search of anything that was mine. Karkat joined me. There was everything from notebooks to lipstick to phonecases to pencils, but nothing that belonged to me. I stood up, letting out a sigh. “Not here. Where should we check next?” 

Karkat titled his head in thought. “Maybe the trash bins outside? When some moronic dickweeds took my friend Sollux’s stuff, that’s where they put it,” he said, standing up.

I nodded, “Sounds good.”

Karkat began walking in front of me, leading the way to the backdoors of the school. “So, what do you do for fun?” He asked, glancing at me.

“Nothing much, really. I mean, I enjoy rapping and listening to music. How about you?”

“That’s cool. I don’t do too much, either. I like reading and, this’ll sound really nerdy, but I like watching movies. It’s just sort of relaxing,” Karkat replied, pushing a heavy gray door that led outside. 

“I get that… Man, I never knew these doors existed,” I commented with a whistle. 

Karkat nodded, holding the door open for me. “Yeah, not many people know about this exit. It doesn’t lead anywhere special, though, just to the trash bins.” 

I hurried out, muttering a quick thanks to Karkat for holding the door open. As I stepped outside, I was met with weak sunrays hitting my face and a chilly morning breeze. I shivered, wrapping my arms around me. Karkat gave a concerned glance in my direction. “You cold, Strider?” 

I shrugged, giving him a reassuring smile. “I’m fine,” I replied as we began walking towards the trash bags. 

“Here, take this,” Karkat said quickly, beginning to pull off his black jacket. “I have another in my locker.”

I took it gratefully and slipped it on. It was lightweight, soft to the touch, and held a distinct, candle-like scent. “Thanks man,” I said, a small smile appearing on my face. 

Karkat gave a short nod. “No problem.”

Once we got closer to the school trash I began to scope out the area. There were three large trash bins full of black trash bags. “Okay, how about you lift me up and I can look in and see if your stuff is in there?” Karkat suggested, his gaze directed towards the enormous containers. 

“Okay,” I shrugged. “How should I do this? Like, do you want me to-” 

“Just grab my waist and throw me up, fuckwad.”

I laughed, “Got it.” I grabbed the smaller boy’s waist and lifted him up with ease. “Dude, you’re fucking light,” I commented. “And what’s up with your insults? You’re savage.” 

“Shut up, I’m looking for your stuff,” Karkat mumbled, looking down into the trash bin. “I don’t think your bag is in this one. Do you want to-” Suddenly the boy’s voice was cut off as he slipped and tumbled from my grip.

With a hard _thud_ Karkat landed on my torso and we both fell to the ground together. I broke out laughter. “You okay, man?” I asked, chuckling. Karkat looked up, obviously dazed, before realizing what happened. He scrambled off of me, laughing nervously. “Yeah, yeah. I’m okay. Are you?”

I nodded, standing up and brushing the gravel off of my clothes. “I’m alright. Wanna check the other trash bins now? Maybe try a different method of lifting you up?”

“You know what, fuck it. Do you just wanna borrow my books and shit? I’m sure you can use my notes until you get your stuff back.”

I blinked in surprise, taken back by Karkat’s generosity. “S-sure, if you wouldn’t mind, I guess.” 

Karkat threw back his head and laughed. “I don’t care. Let’s hurry back before someone catches us. I can get you your stuff and we won’t be too late to class.”

“Sounds like a plan.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about this story! I don't know if this chapter is any good, but it's something, right? Also, I just started school so I'm not entirely sure if that will effect my writing. With that in mind, I pre-apologize if the next couple of chapters take longer than usual.

_Slam_!

Karkat shut his locker door loud enough for the sound to resonate in the locker room. He slipped a pile of textbooks and papers into my hands. “Here are your bitchshitting books and notes,” Karkat stated.

I gulped again, looking back at the other boy with astonishment. “T-thanks again, Karkat,” I stammered.

“No problem, Strider. It’s not your fault that some shitsmoking poopmunching douches took your stuff.”

I shook my head, giving a small laugh. “Your insults are the best.”

“I try.”

“Okay, we should probably get to class. Mrs.Grenke is gonna be pissed at me for showing up late,” I said, a smile twitching at the corner of my lips.

Karkat nodded. “Yeah, right now I’m supposed to be in Mr.Bruan’s class. I don’t think he’ll be spewing delight and excitement at me coming in late.”

“Yeah, probably not.”

“Well, see you around, Strider,” Karkat said with a grin, giving a short wave as he hurried off in the opposite direction.

“See you later, Karkat,” I called back in response. I watched the other male scurry off down the hallway before turning in the direction of my own class.

…

Before I knew it, I stood before the looming door of room 309. I groaned, knowing well what was prepared for me. With a nervous hand I quickly swung the door open.

I swiftly walked into the classroom, feeling the hot glare of everyone’s eyes trained on me. The teacher momentarily stopped lecturing before turning to me with hands on her hips. “Mr. Strider, would you like to explain why you’re late?” She asked sharply.

“I had more important things to attend to. My sincerest apologies,” I replied sarcastically. 

“Well, I’m disappointed you feel that way about my class. Since you seem to be so busy during my class time, I would like you to make up for it with detention tomorrow afternoon.”

“But-”

Mrs.Grenke glared at me, her bony finger pointing to the back of the class. “Go sit down. Now.”

I stared daggers at the teacher from behind my aviators as I walked down the row to an empty seat. As soon as I sat down, Mrs.Grenke resumed talking. “Now for the last ten minutes of class I would like you to continue on the work packet I handed out. It will be due Thursday morning. Get to work.” 

Students grumbled, obviously unhappy that the teacher-student drama was over. I bent my head, noticing John was trying to get my attention. Normally we sat next to each other, but because I was late, all the seats next to him had been taken. I watched, slightly annoyed, as he scribbled something down and flicked a piece of paper in my direction. 

‘John, you’re really pushing it,’ I thought irritably as I reached down to pick up the note. ’If the devil-women sees me passing notes she’ll give me detention for at least a week.’ 

I carefully opened up the folded paper, shielding it with my arm so the teacher couldn’t see. Scrawled on the paper was John’s distinct hand-writing asking why I was late to class and an invitation to hang out after school. I sighed, beginning to jot down an answer.

‘I was looking for my stuff. (Some dicks took my bag yesterday.) Karkat, idk if you know him, let me borrow some of his books. And I’m not sure if I can hang out today. My bro might be making me go to a fucking stupid therapy thing. Sorry, dude. Talk to me after this class.’

After I finished writing my response on the crumbled paper, I folded it back up and inconspicuously tossed the message onto John’s desk. I watched him gingerly pick it up and read it before looking back at me and nodding, signaling that he understood my words and that he’d talk to me after class. 

The end of the period couldn’t of came sooner. As soon as the bell rang I grabbed my books and hurried to John’s side. 

“Hey, Dave!” he greeted me cheerfully.

“Hey, bro.”

“So we can’t hang out today?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow at me as we exited the classroom.

“I don’t think so. My bro said he was making me go to some counseling therapy shit? I don’t even fucking know.”

“Hm, okay! We can hang out some other day, then. And didn’t you say something about your stuff getting taken?”

“Yeah. Some cocksuckers took my bag yesterday. But it’s mostly alright now, I mean, the problem is temporarily solved. Karkat let me borrow some of his supplies,” I replied, aligning my steps with John’s.

“That sucks! If there’s anyway I can help, Dave, just let me know! But it’s cool that Karkat helped you out.”

“Yeah. Do you know him?”

“We’ve hung out a few times before. He’s quite the fellow!”

“I agree,” I said with a chuckle.

Before I knew it, John was entering his 3rd period classroom. “Talk to you later, Dave!” He called, giving a short wave goodbye. 

“See ya,” I responded, my eyes following the black-haired boy as he left my side.

…

The rest of the day went by fairly quickly, to my surprise. On any other day I would have been pleased that the school day was over, but today Bro was making me go to some therapy counselor shit. And in my opinion, that sounded worse than school.

I stood outside the school doors, waiting at the entrance for my bro to come pick me up. On a normal occasion I would of walked home, but today he had specified that he would pick me up and take me straight to the person that would “offer me some help”. 

I leaned against the brick wall, my arms crossed over my chest. My bro had most likely gotten tired of me taking back to him and the teachers, or in other words, “causing problems with authority”. That plus my so called family drama made me a supposedly “troubled child” that needed professional help. Atleast, that’s what I gathered. Although I most certainly didn’t want or need a counselor lady to try and sort out my problems. 

A scowl became apparent on my lips as my eyes noticed Bro’s beat up car. I strode over to him, letting myself into the passenger’s seat. 

“You’re taking me to… a therapy place?” I questioned before he could say anything.

My bro nodded wordlessly, beginning to pull out of the school parking lot. “Yeah. Figured it’d help you a little bit.” 

“I don’t want to go.”

“I’m making you. Sorry, dude.”

“You can’t make me fucking do anything.”

“It’s for your own good.”

“When have you ever done anything for ‘my own good’? This would be the first time,” I snapped, averting my eyes out the car window. I stared at the buildings passing by, unable to make eye contact with my bro.

“Don’t say that, Dave. I do a lot for you. Stop making me look like the bad guy.”

“Why can’t you understand that this won’t help me?”

“Just give it a shot.”

“Bro,” I begged, “please don’t make me do this.” 

“Sorry, little man. I promise you, it’ll help.”

Before I could say another word, we pulled into a rundown parking lot. 

“Here,” Bro mumbled as he parked the car. I grimaced, stepping out and slamming the door behind me. 

“You can’t make me do this,” I said as we stepped through the building doors, “I refuse to-” suddenly I halted. I squinted my eyes, recognizing a strikingly similar face sitting in the waiting room.

“Karkat?”


End file.
